Beware . . . Out Of The Ash . . . I Rise With My Charles Bronson Moustache And Greasy Hair . . . And I Eat Hipsters Like Air

Hipster Grifter, meet Hipster Bounty Hunter:

She hadn’t stolen anything from me, but she wasted our time and energy with her cancer stories.

. . .

On Sunday, May 3, she finally agreed to take a bus to Philly. At 9:15 p.m. she said she was sitting on the bus in Manhattan. I immediately called the 6th District police headquarters and told them that a wanted felon with orders for extradition was taking a bus to Chinatown, and that I could help them pick her up. I gave them her case numbers. Then I called the SLCPD and gave them the phone number for the 6th District. When I called the 6th District back, they told me to come down to headquarters to help ID her, so I did.

Officers DeLuca and Green drove me to Chinatown in an unmarked black Explorer. They watched from across the street. When the bus arrived, I waved to Kari to get their attention. I want to say I hugged her, but I was anxious and I don’t remember. I picked her bag out of the luggage storage and started walking behind her. The officers crossed the street and stopped her. I dropped her bag and walked away. They took her aside and questioned her for a moment. She didn’t struggle. I didn’t stay close to hear what they were saying because I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to know it was me who turned her in. Not so much because I cared about her (I didn’t) but because I felt a little cold for betraying someone’s trust.